Tell Him
by missmizzie
Summary: Movie based. Eponine has feelings for Marius. Grantaire has feelings for Enjolras. The first night on the barricade, Eponine and Grantaire agree to confess their love to their men. We all know how it ends for Eponine, but what about Grantaire? My first fanfic, so be nice and helpful. Rated T because I am paranoid. Epilogue now posted.
1. Outings

** A.N. Please be patient, this is my first time and I have no idea what I am doing. This story is basically movie based with some parts from the book as well. If this works and people are actually reading this, please review with any suggestions.**

Chapter One: Outings

Point of view: Grantaire

Apollo had just stricken the spy with his own club when we heard the National Guard marching towards out barricade. Judging by Apollo's expression, my predictions were correct, we are unprepared for this battle.

As the cynic, I should be thrilled that I was right throughout all of those meetings. But how can I be proud of myself when it means that all of my friends will die? Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Jehan, Joly, Bossuet, Marius, Derek, maybe even that lovable little gamin Gavroche. And of course Enjolras, my Apollo…

Said Apollo passes me rope and tells me to tie up the spy, Javert. As he is rushing out to his barricade, he pauses once more and tells little Gavroche to help me with the spy. Apparently, my Marble Man feels that a drunkard and a 12 year old gamin can handle tying up an unconscious police spy. Clearly this is his way of keeping the child safe while letting him be useful. As for me, he just wants me to stay the hell away from his precious barricade.

After we tie up Javert, Gavroche runs out to fight like the big boys. As for myself, I make my way over to the short boy in baggy clothing who I had seen giving Marius his musket. From where I stood behind him, I could tell he was watching Marius take his place on the barricade.

I lean in close to the boy's ear and whisper, "Hello, Eponine."

As I expected, the young man (or shall I say the young woman) whipped around in shock, staring at me with the horrified brown eyes of the beautiful girl I have seen at so many rallies. As I am half-drunk already, I cannot remember where I heard the name, but judging by her response, that is indeed her name.

"How did you know, Monsieur?" she asked in a soft voice.

"First, Mademoiselle, I am no Monsieur. I am only Grantaire, or R," I replied, enjoying my distraction from the inevitable battle about to begin. "Second, I have seen you at enough rallies, looking at Marius with the same expression you had just a few moments ago."

The girl looked away for a moment before replying. " My family lives in the apartment next to Marius. I have known him for almost a year. He will never see me as more than a friend. Especially now that he has fallen in love with Cosette."

Making sure that nobody was looking, I put my hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should tell him, Eponine. What do you have to lose? I highly doubt any of us will survive."

The girl winced at my harsh, cynical words, but nodded and locked her brown eyes on my blood-shot green ones. "And you should tell the leader."

A chill runs down my spine. Glancing over at Apollo, who has taken his place with his musket aimed at the Guard, I lean in closer to Eponine. "What?"

"The leader, I believe he is called Enjolras. You should tell him," She paused there as we heard the marching finally stop and commands being given on both sides of the barricade. Glancing around and checking that Javert was still unconscious, she continued. "You look at him the way I look at Marius. You love him."

I feel the blood drain from my face at her words. Was it that obvious? Do any of the amis know? Does Apollo? Surely none of them know or they would have tossed me out on my drunken arse. Still, Eponine has confessed to me, so I nod, silently confessing my secret for the first time.

She gave me a smile. "I don't care, but you should say something."

"So should you," I reply, glancing at the barricade, which has grown silent, signifying that all hell was about to break lose.

Eponine must sense it as well. "You are right. The barricade will fall in the next day or so. We should tell the guys beforehand." I must have given her a strange look because she quickly clarified, "Marius and Enjolras."

I smiled before downing my bottle of Absinthe. "Before the barricade falls." I confirm. I then pat her on the shoulder before we head out to join our men.


	2. Rainfall

**A.N. Thank you for the support you have given me by reading and reviewing my story. I am in the process of drafting the next few chapters. This next one is more AUish than the last one. I wanted to include Eponine telling Marius (in other words, her death scene). However, to me it seemed like it would be boring coming from Grantaire's POV, so I changed some of the events around, spicing it up a little.**

**Disclaimer: Victor Hugo owns all characters.**

Chapter Two: Rainfall

Point of View: Grantaire

Eponine and I exit the café just as the first shots rang out. Most of the Amis I am unfamiliar with are at the base of the barricade, loading muskets and aiming at the National Guard through small holes in the thick pile of rubble. Eponine tries to stay out of the way, I have seen the way she handled Marius' gun earlier and know that if she were to try to shoot, she would be discovered by the men instantly. Apollo was halfway up the barricade, aiming his weapon through the spokes of a discarded wagon wheel. Marius was just above him with Bahorel, Feuilly, Jehan, and Combeferre. All were aiming their muskets at our enemies down below. Courfeyrac has climbed down long enough to physically carry Gavroche away from the action, telling him to watch our prisoner.

At this point, I notice that Eponine is looking at Gavroche in a way that is almost motherly. This girl doesn't look a day over 16, and I know for a fact that Gavroche is 12 and has never mentioned a family, besides ourselves. Eponine seems to notice the questioning look I am giving her. She leans over and whispers in my ear, "Gavroche is my brother. When I was 9 and he was 5, papa…"

Whatever her papa did I will never know, for at that moment Combeferre shouted "They are climbing the barricade!"

The men along the top of the barricade tossed down their muskets in favor of smaller pistols and swords. Apollo began to climb up the barricade, while Marius climbed down. On his way down, Marius paused, looking around before tossing his musket in my direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eponine and Gavroche moving towards the gun, eager to help. In the end, I am forced to lunge forward to catch the gun before either one can injure anyone due to their lack of experience.

Another flash of movement higher up captures my attention. Apollo had turned just in time to see me catch the weapon, and is now eyeing me with disapproval. Apparently I shouldn't be handling a loaded musket either. Of course, I can't blame him for his concern, the last bottle of Green Fairy has begun to catch up to me.

For the third time that night, yet another movement catches my eye; this one, however, sends a chill down my spine. One of the first National Guardsmen has reached the top of the barricade and is aiming his piece, bayonet and all, at my Apollo.

Apollo is still glaring at me as I raise my newly acquired musket. Because he is not paying attention to himself, Apollo's expression changes to shock as I take aim at a place just above his head.

"Enjolras, get down!" I shout, using his given name in the hopes that the shock would force him to obey.

Sure enough, Apollo ducks down as I shoot the guardsman through the chest. Mouth gaping, Apollo looks between me and the fallen man. "You okay, Apollo?" I ask, unable to resist.

Before he can reply, Gavroche starts screaming, standing on a box as if to be heard better. "Marius! What are you doing? Get down!"

Everyone turns to watch as Marius, armed with a lite torch and a keg of gun powder, climbed to the top of the barricade. "Fall back or I'll blow the barricade!" he shouted in the face of the mustached commander.

Everyone watched as the guard backed down, and as Apollo took the torch. I, on the other hand, was watching something else.

At her brother's cry of warning, Eponine scaled the barricade in record time, reaching the top just as a soldier aimed his gun at Marius (who, of course, was not paying attention.) With a cry of fear and desperation, Eponine grabbed the muzzle of the musket and held it to her chest just as the guardsman pulled the trigger. In the chaos that followed Marius' idiotic victory, I was to only one who saw Eponine fall to the ground, losing her hat in the process.

Upon reaching the bottom of the barricade, Marius was surrounded. On his left, Combeferre was scolding him for his stupidity, on his right, Feuilly was congratulating him. I shoved my way to Marius' side, staggering more than necessary, and dragged him away until he was within view of where Eponine laid. Her brown hair flowed over her shoulders and was plastered there by the rain, her hand was pressed to her side, where she was slowly bleeding out.

Marius raced to her side and held her hand. She reached into the pocket of her oversized coat and pulled out a piece of parchment. Passing it to Marius, she whispered weakly, "It's from Cosette. I kept it from you. I'm sorry."

I took a few steps back to give them privacy. However, I was close enough to hear Eponine ask Marius to hold her as she died. "Course, 'Ponine" he murmured.

"Will you kiss my forehead when I am sleeping?" she gasped, struggling to hide her pain.

"Course, 'Ponine" at this point, Marius began to tear up.

And just before Eponine closed her eyes for good, she stated in a barely audible voice, "I love you, Monsieur Marius."

After Eponine received the kiss of death, followed immediately by the kiss of love, I had to look away. As I watched Gavroche silently crying as he stared at his sister's body, my fairy fueled mind realized that I stilled had to talk to my Apollo.

I turned to glance at him and saw a single drop of water rolling down his cheek. After a moment, when he moved to help Combeferre carry Eponine's body into the café, I concluded that the water on Apollo's face must have been from the rain. Because, after all, marble never cries.

**Another A.N. I have been wanting to use that last sentence for so long. I'm not sure if you can tell, but I HATE Marius. In the book, he creeps me out the way he stalks Cosette, and in both book and musical, he is so stupid. While watching the move/musical, I always felt that as the leader, Enjolras was way too safe. He went through the battle uninjured up until his death. You'd think he would at least get a splinter on the barricade or something. That's enough of my mini rant, basically I just felt that Enjolras should have a close call like everyone else.**

**-Zie**


	3. Absinthe meets Abstinence

**A.N. I told myself when I began this fic that I would update every other day. But I was so excited about this next chapter; I had to post it as soon as I finished drafting it. This chapter hints at why Grantaire drinks and it of course has the moment everyone has been waiting for!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Victor Hugo owns the characters, the song lyrics belong to the people who wrote the musical, and Aaron Tveit's hotness is to be credited to God Himself. **

Chapter Three: Absinthe meets Abstinence

Point of View: Grantaire

Once the rain had stopped, I curled up in a corner with my beloved Absinthe. For years, the fairy has been the only constant in my life, and our affair has only grown more intense in the past four years, since Apollo came into my life. Those four years were spent with a bottle in hand, studying Apollo every chance I got, searching for a sign that he was even slightly attracted to a man like me. Once, I drank enough to actually ask him if he had anyone special in his life. "Of course," he replied with a slight smile. "I have my Patria."

I stayed in my filthy apartment for three days, devastated and slowly drinking myself to death, before I realized that by Patria, Apollo meant France. I returned to the café the next day, and when Courfeyrac asked where I had been, I explained that I was an art student and had been working on a project. In truth, I really had been an art student, that is before I stopped coming to class.

So for now, I have my beautiful Green Fairy and the occasional prostitute, and Apollo has his Patria.

The next few hours after Eponine's death passed in a blur. Marius waited until Gavroche had curled up in a quiet place to grieve, before he read Cosette's note. Not only did he have the nerve to read the damn thing after Eponine's sacrifice, but he also wrote his own letter and had the little gamin (who just lost the only family member who cared about him) go deliver it. I get that Marius was trying to save the child, but it was no good, for Gavroche returned in 10 minutes.

Shortly after Gavroche's return, an old man in a National Guard uniform came to the barricade, claiming to be a volunteer. Apollo let the old man in, but had Feuilly grab his weapon. I came behind the man and helped hold his arms. Before we could tie him up, Gavroche spoke up, claiming to know the man. Suddenly, the man shouted, "Enemy marksmen on the roof!"

We let the man grab his musket and he shot the guardsman who was standing directly over us. There was a slight panic as everyone ran around screaming, "On the roof! On the roof!"

With the marksmen gone, Apollo and the old man began speaking. The stranger asked if he could take care of Javert. After a brief moment, Apollo nodded and Gavroche pulled a pistol out of his pocket. _We got to watch this child more carefully. He will get himself killed. _ I thought, watching the man take the gun, along with a small knife Apollo had given him, and led Javert outside. After a few minutes, we heard the shot fired and the old man returned, making a point of giving both knife and gun to Apollo.

An hour later, Apollo told Courfeyrac to take the watch and the rest of us were told to rest. As I sat in my corner, absentmindedly playing with the keys of a broken piano, Feuilly and Jehan began passing a bottle around, while singing a drinking song.

Not one to miss out on free booze (as if I would have to pay for what I had already consumed), I joined them. Everyone besides Marius and the old man seemed relaxed, even Apollo joined in the song, though not the drinking. The previous events suddenly came back to me, Eponine, the deal we made, the way her love for Marius actually killed her. Looking at Apollo, four years of lust, pain, anger, and desperation came rushing to the surface. Just like that, I opened my mouth and sang:

"Drink with me

To days gone by.

Can it be

You fear to die?

Will the world remember you

When you fall?

Could it be your death

Means nothing at all?

Is your life just one more lie?"

I receive strange looks for my cynical lyrics to what was clearly supposed to be a cheerful song. Combeferre came to my rescue and began the song where they had left off.

With a parting glance at Apollo, I turned to go back to my solitary corner. A sudden tug on my arm nearly ripped it from its socket. I turned to look at Apollo, who gestured for me to follow him into the café. Before I closed the door behind us, I felt Jehan looking at me, almost sympathetically. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Gavroche manage to sip some wine before anyone realized that he was passed the bottle. He caught my eye and passed the bottle to Derek, who possibly took a smaller sip than the child before him.

Apollo slammed the door shut just a Marius began singing about Cosette. "Grantaire, I would like to thank you for shooting the guardsman who took aim at me. You saved my life."

I struggled not to laugh at how formal he was. He continued, "I have to know. Why did you choose to fight with us? You don't believe in our cause, the only time you talk at my meetings is to yell incoherent insults my way."

I bit my lip; this was the moment of truth. I glanced at where Eponine's corpse was laying on the ground. She looked at peace, as if a huge burden had been lifted off her chest. Taking a deep breath, I turned to Apollo.

"Well… You see… I-I-I…" At this moment, I could tell he thought I was much too drunk to string two words together, but that was nowhere near the issue. This was something I couldn't put in words. Eponine was on the verge of death when she told Marius. If he rejected her, she would have had less than a second to live with the pain. If I were rejected, I would have up to a full day to live with my pain.

But still, that young woman died fulfilling her part of the deal. I had to try.

Taking a step closer to Apollo, I put my hand on his neck and kissed him as hard as I could.

Four years after laying eyes on this man, I was finally kissing him. My mind was too full of thoughts and emotions; I couldn't register what he tasted like or anything. I felt nothing but overwhelming joy.

I kissed him for about 30 seconds, but it felt like 3. I would have loved to kiss him so much longer, but the kiss had sobered me up enough to register the feelings against my lips. Apollo's lips were cold and hard, there was no emotion, no give, and he was definitely not about to kiss me back. He had turned to marble.

Mortified, I broke the kiss and backed away, keeping my eyes closed. Once I was five steps away, I dared to open my eyes. I was more than prepared for his expression, but the look of disgust and hatred in his blue eyes still broke my heart into fragments. I turned away and stood over Eponine's body, determined not to let Enjolras see me cry. While his beauty still renders him godlike, and me speechless, the kiss has proven that he is just another man revolted by me. He was no longer Apollo; he was just Enjolras, an average man attracted to women.

I had just reached that conclusion and was struggling to compose myself when Enjolras grabbed my arm and abruptly turned me so I was facing him. He then dropped my arm like it was burning his skin. Looking into my eyes, with no expressions on his face, he addressed me in a dangerous tone.

"Grantaire, it is clear to me that you are very drunk. You are to go curl up in a corner, sleep the alcohol out of your system, and we will never speak of this incident again."

I nodded, wanting to just hide under the rubble until the National Guard came, then greet them with opened arms. On my way to the door, however, Enjolras spoke up with more commands. "You will sleep in here, behind the bar. I do not wish to see you again until you have sobered up. There will be no more repeats."

"Yes, Enjolras," I mumbled as I passed where he stood, heading over to my new bed.

I managed to curl up facing away from the door, yet still able to look at Eponine. The only person who could possibly understand how I felt was this dead girl. I waited five minutes, giving Enjolras time to storm out of the room and take his place on the barricade. Then I shoved my fist into my mouth, bit down, and wept.

**Another A.N. The idea for Grantaire's confession came from the 25****th**** anniversary, where Grantaire and Enjolras seem to be having a conversation during "Drink with Me", which ends with Grantaire hugging Enjolras. Sorry if Enjolras was a bit OOC, it will only get worse in the next chapter which is in his POV (I know nothing about modern day politics, let alone 19****th**** century French politics). I also have had little more romantic experience compared to Enjolras, so sorry if the kiss seemed flat. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I have never consumed and alcoholic drink (honestly) in my life, so Grantaire's drunken behavior is based off of books and movies.**

**-Zie**


	4. Cracked Marble

**A.N. I would first like to thank Darci the Thespian, Clare-ity, and Clearly Lock for their kind reviews and support. The three of you have only increased my excitement about my first story. As I have said at the end of the previous chapter, I expect Enjolras to be OOC. I just always thought of him rambling on about politics, and I would never be able to convey that.**

Chapter Four: Cracked Marble

Point of View: Enjolras

Thirty seconds. Our first kiss only lasted thirty seconds. I would like to say that if I were more prepared for Grantaire's sudden move, the kiss would have lived up to my expectations. But no, I could never have returned his kiss.

That is not to say that I didn't enjoy it. I was just so shocked, the only emotion I could convey was awe. Of course, with his eyes closed, Grantaire never saw the look of awe and joy that was briefly on my face. When Grantaire broke the kiss with the look of pure horror on his face, I was hit with feelings of hatred and self-loathing.

Evidently, he saw my disgust and automatically assumed it was aimed at him. Grantaire quickly turned to look at the body of Marius' shadow; the girl who died just after confessing her love to him.

I quickly composed myself and turned Grantaire around. How I wished I could keep my hand on his arm, to soften the harsh words I was about to say, but just the act of touching his bicep brought forth feelings I had to save for the cause. "Grantaire, it is clear to me that you are very drunk. You are to go curl up in a corner, sleep the alcohol out of your system, and we will never speak of this incident again."

The broken look in his eyes pained me; along with the way he silently nodded, not trying to defend himself. For the third time tonight, I found myself grabbing his arm. He had been heading to the door, preparing to sleep on the barricade like the others. I couldn't let that happen. What if he slipped away and gave himself over to the Guard? What if he spoke of what happened?

"You will sleep in here, behind the bar. I do not wish to see you again until you have sobered up. There will be no more repeats." As Grantaire shuffled past me, eyes on the ground, I heard him mumble, "Yes, Enjolras."

My stomach churned. Was I no longer Apollo? Does he no longer love me? Struggling to remain in control of my emotions, I watched as he curled up on the hard floor behind the bar. I quickly walked to the door, but before leaving, I had to glance once more at Grantaire. He was facing away from me, his eyes once again on the female's corpse.

Returning to the barricade, I studied my friends. All of them were sleeping, even Courfeyrac, who I told to take watch, and was sprawled out on top of the barricade, with Gavroche curled in a ball on his stomach.

Derek had taken the watch instead, and appeared to be wide awake, watching the streets beyond the barricade. The old man who joined us earlier and killed the police spy, was also awake and appeared to be praying over Marius, who was oblivious.

_Has the world gone mad?_ I thought. A complete stranger disguised as a National Guardsman is praying while practically sitting on Marius. A girl disguises herself as a man in order to sneak onto the barricade, only to die saving Marius, who loves another girl. Gavroche, a 12 year old gamin, seems determined to die with us tomorrow. And now, after four long years, Grantaire kisses me; then I banish him to a corner like a dog.

I love Grantaire. I don't give a damn about what society thinks about relationships between two men. Love is love. However, that is possibly to only goal I have kept to myself throughout the years of rallied and meetings. I have never risked bringing up sexuality, for fear of scaring off potential supporters, therefore bringing our numbers down significantly. Despite my care to hide my feelings, I get the sense that Combeferre and Jean are both aware of my feelings towards Grantaire. 'Ferre has known me for years and has always been supportive. As for Jehan, I have always thought that he shared my preference for men.

These past few days, I have had yet another reason to keep my feelings bottled up. The second I told Marius to forget that woman, Cosette, and to focus his passion on the barricades soon to rise, I knew I was talking to myself as well. Though none of mes amis (besides possibly Combeferre and Jehan) could see my inner struggle, those four years of hiding my feelings were beginning to take their toll. The day Marius claimed to have fallen in love; I had been preparing to confess my love to Grantaire. The way he thought I never saw his every look, nor shared his every thought; it was laughable, and that night, I would make him mine.

But as I addressed Marius, telling him to ignore his feelings for anything besides the cause, it hit me. If I were to force Marius to abandon his love, then spend the night with the man I loved, I would be a hypocrite.

Between that night and General Lamarque's funeral, I have not seen Grantaire. I feared that if I did, I would give into the urges that I had never felt before meeting him, the ones that I have repressed for years. These past few hours on the barricade, I have both been giving my orders and trying to keep R safe. I had him stay and tie up the spy, hopping that he would stay and watch him. My heart stopped when I saw him with a gun, and nearly burst from my chest when he took aim in my direction. When I saw that he saved my life, I came close to crying; something I have not done in over 13 years.

When he began singing that damn song, I felt that his hateful, resentful lyrics were aimed at me. At that point, I knew we had to talk. I first thanked him for saving my life, and then stalled by asking why he was here. Grantaire kissed me just as I was trying to find a way to tell him that I loved him, but we could not be together; at least not now.

My family was not the type to show emotions through physical contact, nor was I encouraged to cry. I have never kissed anyone before, and I had no idea how to react. So instead, I used the kiss to solve my problem. I know it was cruel, but I wanted to keep him safe. Like the girl taking a bullet for Marius, I broke R's heart and told him to sleep behind the bar.

As I lay down next to Combeferre and check to make sure everyone (save Derek) are still sleeping, I let some tears break loose. I just hope that when the barricade falls and the Guard begin their executions, Grantaire will still be sleeping behind the bar. That is the only way for him to survive, if the Guard thinks he is dead.

My tears drying up, I drift into an uneasy sleep. Not for the first time, I dream that I could live in the world I plan to die for.

**Another A.N. I apologize if this chapter was kind of all over the place. I had so many good ideas for this chapter, I tried my best to use them all and write them in a way that made sense. I always saw Jehan as gay and wanted him to have some sort of gaydar, so he would know the situation Enjolras and Grantaire were in. **

**On another note; I am in the process of drafting another story, in which one of the amis is raped. The rape will not be very detailed, but I don't know if I should rate it M. Any tips would be helpful.**

**-Zie**


	5. The youngest Guardsman

**A.N. I would first like to apologize for the long wait. I wish I could give you a valid excuse, but I don't have any. In case I haven't mentioned this in earlier chapters, I always thought that Grantaire uses his drinking as a crutch, giving him an excuse for any vibes he gives off towards Enjolras. That is pointed out in earlier when it is described that Grantaire acts drunker than he is so he can get closer to Marius to point out Eponine. Enjolras also emphasizes on Grantaire's drinking habits to make him less credible and also to give them both a cop out.**

Chapter Five: The Youngest Guardsman

Point of View: Third Person

At sunrise the next day, Derek was the only student still awake. After close to 14 hours, most of them spent on the barricade, he was still awake. The 20 year old boy was probably the youngest student partaking in their rebellion, except for Gavroche, who was not a student and everyone had tried to send away at some point since the barricade rose.

Sighing in exhaustion, Derek turned to the street, now properly lite by the sun. The sight he saw nearly knocked his fatigued body off the barricade. In the past 5 hours or so, the National Guard has increased to close to 300 men, and that was just what Derek could see from the barricade. With a sinking feeling, Derek turned to the sleeping students, and whistled loudly.

At Derek's whistle Enjolras, Marius, Combeferre, and Bahorel woke up. Turning to Enjolras, Derek stated "There are more of them."

The five men raced around, shaking their amis awake. Bossuet jerked awake and would have rolled over to the Guard side of the barricade, if Joly had not grabbed his arm in time to pull him back to their own side. Courfeyrac sat up so quickly, Gavroche slid off his stomach and landed hard on a particularly sensitive part of Courfeyrac's person. Once he had recovered, they continued waking the others.

Five minutes later, the barricade was buzzing with the activity of young men; frightened, but unwilling to admit it, they prepared for the slaughter to come. It was at this point when Jehan approached Enjolras and asked the question that most of the amis were thinking, "Where's R?"

The barricade fell silent as everyone paused to await Enjolras' answer. Said man had frozen at the mention of the drunkard. The look he gave the poetic romantic was a mixture of anger and . . . fear? Guilt? The look only lasted for a second, before the leader quickly replaced his marble mask. After composing himself, Enjolras answered the shocked poet. "Last I saw him, Jehan, he was passed out behind the bar, reeking of Absinthe."

Enjolras exaggerated slightly; in case Grantaire said anything when he returns to the barricade, the others will pass it off as a drunken dream.

Jehan made his way to the Musain door, to wake Grantaire so he could help or at least be prepared. "Jean, wait!" Enjolras exclaimed quickly, before bringing his voice down to a more casual tone, "I need you here to help prepare the guns. Feuilly and I must check the gun powder."

As Enjolras continued giving his orders, Jehan turned away from the door. Heading towards the enclosed area where they had stored their extra guns, he passed Gavroche, who was waiting hopefully for orders to come his way. A thought occurred to Jehan and he raced to the gamin's side. "Gavroche. I need you to go into the café and get the extra case of bullets for me. While you are there, you might as well check on Grantaire, let him know that the National Guard is congregating."

Thrilled that the young poet did not try to send him off the barricade, Gavroche agreed and raced into the café.

Grantaire was woken up, not by Derek's alarm, nor by Courfeyrac's earlier cry of pain, nor even the commotion outside of the Musain door. Grantaire was woken up by the soft whimpers of a child, not far from his head. Opening his eyes, the wine cask took in a sight that touched his already broken heart.

Gavroche was hunched up in the middle of the café, trying to keep his sobs silent. Sitting to his left was a box of bullets. His forehead was resting against Eponine's. Behind the child, the door was opened.

"Gavroche," Grantaire whispered, so softly he doubted the child heard him, until he saw Gavroche jump, almost ashamed to have been caught grieving.

Crawling over, Gavroche sat down next to Grantaire. After studying the drunkard, the gamin began talking in a soft voice. "Hello, Grantaire. Jean sent me inside to get more bullets. I guess I just…" the child bit his lip, trying not to cry.

"You just saw your sister's body. That's okay." Grantaire finished for him, struggling to hold back his own tears.

"Did you know her, sir?" the boy asked softly.

"As I told your sister, Little Gavroche, I want you to call me Grantaire, or R." Grantaire replied with a chuckle, before growing serious. "I saw here at some of our rallies, though I only met her last night. She began to tell me about what your father did when you were 5, but she never got the chance to finish."

The boy fixed the man with a playfully stern look, "First off, _Monsieur._ If I can't use formalities, while addressing you, then you can't call me 'Little Gavroche'." Grantaire pretended to coward in response to Gavroche's 'rage'. With a smile, the child continued. "When I was 5 and 'Ponine was 9, our family moved here to Paris. Once we passed the wall, Papa stopped the carriage so he could, you know, _go._ He took me with him, but once we reached the trees, Papa let go of my arm and ran back to the carriage, leaving me. 'Bout two years ago, I found 'Ponine and she started giving me scraps of food and some coins. Last winter for Christmas, she saved up her share of the 'earnings' Papa gives…gave…her so she could buy me this here coat."

Gavroche told his story, showing no emotions as he spoke of his abandonment and how his sister tried to care for him from afar. Grantaire felt the child would have continued his story, if Enjolras had not shouted at that point, "Is there any gun powder inside the café?"

Both the drunkard and the gamin jumped at the booming voice (they had been speaking in whispers, as if not to disturb the deceased.) "I have to get the bullets back to Jean," the child stated with a hint of apology.

Grantaire shrugged, turning away. "Tell Enjolras that there is no more gun powder."

Gavroche gawked at him. The child never heard Grantaire call the leader anything but Apollo. "Aren't you coming?" the gamin asked, but Grantaire gave no answer, pretending to be asleep.

Gavroche came racing out of the café, hauling a large crate of bullets, and made a beeline to Enjolras. "There is no more gun powder in the café." Before leaving, he added, "Grantaire has also stopped calling you Apollo."

Gavroche did not see the pained look on Enjolras' face, for he was already running to Jehan. Finally able to put the heavy bullets down, Gavroche beamed at Jehan. "Grantaire is fine. He just went back to sleep."

The poet smiled back at the child, "Merci, Gavroche. Now please return to your elephant."

On the opposing side of the barricade, a young National Guardsman by the name of Andre was stretching in exhaustion. At 26 years of age, he was very likely the youngest man on this side of the barricade. Somehow, Andre had missed the first attack the previous night, but he now had his rifle trained on the barricade.

Not for the first time, the young man let his mind wander to his family. He and his wife, Adrianna, have been married for 6 years. They had a daughter early on in their union. Unfortunately, she died at a young age, trampled by a horse when she wandered away from her parents while they were dining in a café. Just last winter, Adrianna had given birth to a son, whom they christened Julien. Their son had his mother's blond hair and blue eyes, while the girl had once had Andre's dark hair and green eyes.

A sudden burst of song, sung by a bright, youthful voice brought Andre to the present. A filthy child was outside of the barricade, collecting gun powder from the dead Guardsmen, lying close to the barricade. The innocent child seemed oblivious to the danger he was in, though a comrade of the boy called to him in a soft voice, begging him to return.

The commander caught Andre's eye and signaled for him to shoot the boy. Adjusting his rifle, Andre aimed at a spot to the side of the little boy and gave a warning shot. The child turned to where the bullet hit, and the older man on the barricade began to grow desperate. Just then, the gamin began belting out his song, taunting the Guard.

The older Guardsman next to Andre snickered. Turning the rifle on the child, Andre pulled the trigger just as a man desperately shouted "Gavroche!"

The little boy was hit in the right hip and screamed in pain. The barricade was now alive as panicked voices called out to both child and Guard. The same man who gave the boy a name was now calling Andre a filthy bastard. Andre was frozen; when the child, Little Gavroche, screamed in pain, he heard his own daughter crying out in fear and agony in her final moments as the horse stomped on her.

At this point, Gavroche was crawling towards the next body, still gathering powder for the rebels. The commander had now issued a verbal order, "Finish him, now!"

Andre turned away; letting the soldier next to him raise his own rifle, and shoot the child through the lower chest, almost the stomach. With a cry, a young man with tight brown curls raced to the child's body. He was covered by the leader with blond curls and a boy with too many freckles.

The brunette (possibly Gavroche's father) carried the limb body away. Andre saw the commander swallow thickly. The death of a child, even if it could be justified, could affect even the strongest man. The commander composed himself and addressed the barricade, giving them one last chance to surrender. The only response they received was the cocking of guns. Taking a deep breath, the commander shouted, "Cannons!"

Grantaire had only pretended to fall asleep, to get Gavroche to leave him alone, but he must have dozed off. He awoke to an unnatural silence and the scent of gun powder. Jumping to his feet, Grantaire first saw the body of Gavroche lying next to his sister. Shaking, the sober drunkard scanned the café. Jehan was in the door way. Bahorel and Bosseut were next to Eponine, with Joly sprawled over them. Grantaire slowly stood and moved Joly so he was lying next to Bosseut, almost tripping over Feuilly in the process. Most of the amis were spread out in the Musain or on the barricade.

Scanning the bodies, Grantaire can't help but feel relieved that Enjolras is not dead, yet. The 'yet' brings him up short and he feels extreme guilt. So many lives lost and he, Grantaire, feels relieved over one who may still be alive, but who will never love him. Scanning the bodies again, he concludes that the old man, Marius, Derek, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac may still be among the living, with Enjolras.

Suddenly, Grantaire hears voices on the second floor of the café. "Are you the leader?"

"Yes, I am," comes Enjolras' calm reply.

Without hesitation, Grantaire bolts towards the stairs, taking them two at a time.

At Enjolras' reply, the Guardsmen surrounding him aimed their rifles at his chest. Andre stared at the young man before him. With his blond hair and blue eyes, this man in his 20's had a shocking resemblance to his Adrianna.

Andre was suddenly shoved from behind. Turning, he found himself looking at another young man, this one with black hair and frightened green eyes. As the man staggered towards the blond, Andre realized with a start that the boy resembled himself.

Enjolras could not take his eyes off of Combeferre's corpse. The body was lying amongst the bodies of Courfeyrac and Derek, and he could not stop staring. Even when the commander of the Guard addressed him. Even when he sensed rifles pointed at his chest. All he could think was that if there really was a Heaven, Combeferre would be there. And Enjolras hoped that if 'Ferre were in Heaven, he could go too.

What finally caught his attention was the commotion on the stairs. The Guard looked confused, but Enjolras feared he knew who was coming. Sure enough, Grantaire shoved past the Guardsmen and staggered over to him, looking both terrified and relieved. Enjolras had to admit, he felt relieved that Grantaire survived this long.

Grantaire had finally reached Enjolras' side and gave him a nervous look. "Permets-tu?" he asked.

Enjolras gawked at him. Grantaire felt he needed permission to die alongside him. He couldn't help but wonder, if he said no, would Grantaire go away and live? Or at least try? "Do you permit?" Grantaire repeated in a louder, more desperate tone.

Enjolras grabbed Grantaire's arm before he could walk away. With a smile, he ghosted his fingers down Grantaire's arm and took his hand. Enjolras slowly leaned forward until his forehead was resting against R's. Blue eyes met green eyes before their lips touched.

The kiss was similar to their first one; meaning that it was short lived. Before pulling away, Enjolras pressed his forehead against Grantaire's once more. Against his lips, Enjolras whispered, "I love you."

Heaven, Hell, or somewhere else, Enjolras knew he could face it. Still holding Grantaire's hand, he raised his red flag over his head. There was no pain.

Andre was sent to check the pulse of both men. The dark haired man was easier. Not just because the corpse was inside, but because he looked similar to himself. While it was still disturbing, at least he wasn't looking at the man who looked like his own wife. Not only that, it seemed that he were looking into the future, seeing how his son, Julien, would look as an adult.

Still, as he failed to partake in the first attack on the barricade, and he didn't kill Little Gavroche, he should at least be able to do this and make sure both men were dead.

The one inside, shot through the chest three times, was dead. Andre stood with a sigh and leaned out the window.

The blond was dangling by his ankles and the flag in his hand. Again, he felt a pang in his heart looking at the face resembling his wife. Holding onto the wall, Andre leaned out the window and reached down to grab the man's wrist, ignoring the fact that his face was close to one of the few reminders that this was not his wife. As expected, there was no pulse. Pulling himself up, Andre continued to look out the window, watching the blood of the martyrs' water the meadows of France.

**A.N. I hate to say it but there is one more chapter left. Andre was the first character I have made up so let me know if you liked him. My brother once asked me who the bad guys were in Les Miserable, and I realized that there is really no answer. I thought I should include the Guards side of the story. By the way, I saw the musical and movie before I read the book, so I always thought Courfeyrac was Gavroche's father.**

**I would also like to thank those who suggested a rating for my next story. I had decided on a M rating because I also plan to add some consensual sex.**

**-Zie **


	6. Epilogue

**A/N: I apologize for not explaining myself better in the last chapter. This is an epilogue for the story. I would like to thank everyone who read this story, whether you enjoyed it or not.**

Chapter Six: Epilogue

Point of View: Third person

When Grantaire first opened his eyes, only to find himself sprawled on the floor of the café Musain, he thought the barricades had just been a drunken dream. This wouldn't have been the first time he had a nightmare about the event, after all. However, after looking around, he noticed all of the Amis and Eponine surrounding him with sad expressions, the chairs and tables were intact and where they were before they began building the barricade. Using the wall for support, Grantaire pulled himself to his feet, and again found himself scanning the men for the mop of blonde hair.

He finally found Enjolras standing by the window. When he had the chance to move away from Grantaire, he still remained by his side.

Grantaire's thoughts were interrupted when a heavy bishop came up the stairs. The Amis and Eponine all glanced between the bishop and Enjolras. Seeing that Enjolras appeared to be frozen in deep thought, Combeferre questioned the old man. "Who are you? Where are we?"

The bishop smiled at the frightened young men and the young woman. "I am bishop Myriel. In my time on Earth, I was the bishop of Digne. There I was known as Monseigneur Bienvenu. You, my brothers, are in Heaven. Being that my unofficial title is Monseigneur Bienvenu, I am here to welcome you."

Something in Enjolras seemed to stir. Stepping forward, he addressed the bishop. "But, Monseigneur, we are still where we died."

"My friend, we are in the place you all expected to awake. If you were to come to on the street or on a roof top, you would have become alarmed and confused."

Exchanging more looks, the men and Eponine let the bishops words sink in. This time Gavroche spoke up. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Sadness briefly flashed in Monseigneur Bienvenu's eyes. He always felt pained when he was sent to welcome young children, and this one had such a violent death. "My little friend, as I have said, this is Heaven. You may do as you wish."

With a smile, Gavroche ran down the stairs; for the first time in almost six years, he was free to be a child.

Glancing after Gavroche to ensure he was indeed out of earshot. Monseigneur Bienvenu then turned to the boys and the one girl. "With our young friend gone, I think it is safe for us to speak of more… adult matters."

As he expected, the young adults in the room blushed slightly. This was not a topic they could speak of while alive, especially some of them. "There are no real rules of guidelines in Heaven. You are here and you are here to stay. All that we ask of you is that you suppress your urges until you are in private." With that, Monseigneur Bienvenu turned to leave, pausing at the stairs to tell them to contact him with any questions.

The Amis and Eponine looked at each other in shock. After a few minutes, Courfeyrac broke the awkward silence. "Was he giving us permission to have intercourse? With each other?"

Jehan blinked at him. "It seems that way."

Slowly, some of the men began to drift off, with promises to return before dark. Jehan and Courfeyrac raced out the door hand in hand, followed shortly by Joly and Bosseut. Shyly, Combeferre asked Eponine if he would like help finding Gavroche. Eventually, it was just Enjolras and Grantaire left in the café.

Grantaire felt his breath speed up. What would Enjolras say? Would he kick him out, telling him never to return? If so, where would he find wine in Heaven?

To his right, Enjolras was having his own internal struggle. Wasn't he always taught that homosexuality was a sin? Isn't this what he always wanted? Does Grantaire still want him?

Both men seemed to acknowledge each other at the same moment. Ever the leaded, Enjolras leaned closer to Grantaire before growing uncharacteristically shy. He began to glance around the room to make sure it was empty. He looked out the window and noticed a large barricade in the distance. Finally tearing his eyes away from the distant barricade, he met the dark haired man's eyes and said, "Permets-tu?"

In response, Grantaire grabbed Enjolras' chin and guided his lips to their rightful place against his own.

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter was shorter than any of my other chapters. I was just so excited to finish the story, even if it breaks my heart to let this one go. Again, I would like to thank you all for reading this story. Please look for my next story, "Engagement Period" which I will be putting up in the next day or two. Keep in mind it will be rated M for rape, consensual gay sex, and brief mentions of child molestation (NOT GAVROCHE). This story will be up in Plays/Musicals, but I may put it into Books as well. ( I only specified the sex incase people have issues with gay men (Courfeyrac/Jehan, Enjolras/Grantaire) having sex. )**


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